Away the Vapor Flew
by Arciade
Summary: Sora falls into bad company, and succumbs to the allure of some troubling habits. Despite Riku's continued attempts to save Sora from his poison vices, Sora remains steadfast, unwilling to abandon them. But Riku isn't prepared to give up without a fight.


_That smile._

_I lived off that smile. It was the only thing that kept me going._

_Will I ever see it again? Will I ever see you again?_

_What happened, Sora, to make you change like this? I'd give anything to get the old you back._

_I miss you, you know? I really do._

_I just wish you were right here beside me. I'd wrap my arms around you and never let go._

* * *

><p>Riku lay in bed, eyes wide open. A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind, each razor sharp. He tried to close his eyes and block out the pain, but a thousand more thoughts serrated his soul.<p>

'Tch,' he exclaimed, expressing his audible dissent at his rampant conscious.

He tried to quell some of the thoughts by turning to face the digital clock at his bedside. The faintly glowing green lettering spelt out: 11:48 PM.

Riku closed his eyes again, but was soon disturbed by the sound of a faint buzz. Riku reached for his mobile laying on the table beside him.

'Could it be...?' he thought.

He read the screen. 'Wakka'. He groaned, and answered the phone.

"What?" he grunted.

"Riku, you gotta' get down here quick, ya!" came Wakka's voice.

"You know I'm not interested in that shit."

"Nah, man, you don't understand! It's Sora!"

"What?" said Riku, sitting up in his bed.

"Sora's in trouble, ya! Looks like some shit's 'bout to go down."

Riku growled and ended the call. He tore the sheets off and leaped out of bed, threw on some clothes, and made for the door.

* * *

><p>The Destiny Islands, held in high regard for their pleasant tropical climate, friendly natives, and exotic customs, were a popular tourist destination and thus had a vibrant nightlife. Vertigo, one of the many famous, pulsating clubs on the island, albeit less exclusive, attracted not only foreigners, but a good amount of young islanders looking for a good time. Riku didn't consider the crowd there agreeable, and once upon a time, neither did Sora. It was an amalgam of underage drinkers, drug abusers, and miscreants (both juvenile and mature). And now Riku had to count his best friend in that list, a fact which gave him a considerable amount of anguish. He remembered when it was still all beginning, when Sora was beginning to slip and lose himself.<p>

"It's just one drink."

"You're still underage."

"One drink isn't going to hurt anyone," protested Sora. "Besides, it's a special occasion."

"What special occasion? The first time in your life that your IQ has dipped below 50?"

"The first time I'm going to a club!"

"How do you suggest you're going to get in? You look like you're still 12."

"C'mon, man, don't be such a buzzkill."

"It's for your own good."

"It's my life, man. I can do what I want. Besides, it's not like I'm going to go wild or anything."

Riku frowned. He didn't relish the idea of Sora drinking and sneaking into a nightclub, but he didn't enjoy fighting with him either. He settled on a compromise.

"All right. Fine," sighed Riku. "But promise me—only one drink."

Sora grinned. "I promise, don't worry."

Riku didn't precisely count on Sora getting into the club, and he trusted Sora to keep his promise. He tried to assure himself that nothing would happen.

That was three months ago. Sora didn't keep his promise. Nor did he drink any less afterwards; on the contrary, he drank much more. Alcohol became an addiction. Sora was at parties every other night, where the people that he met only enticed him into more dangerous habits. The first time Riku caught the scent of cigarette smoke on Sora, he furiously demanded to know if he'd been smoking.

"Chill out, man. It's just secondhand smoke."

This prompted a heated argument. Riku didn't know whether he should believe Sora; he wanted to, of course, but with the way he'd been acting lately, Riku couldn't help himself from doubting Sora's honesty. Even if he was telling the truth, secondhand smoke was still hazardous, and Riku couldn't abide the thought of Sora hanging around people who smoked so liberally. Riku believed that any teenage who had enough disregard for their health to swallow an entire packet of cigarettes certainly didn't give a damn about taking drugs, and the thought of his best friend become a stoner mortified him. He could not hold back his emotions any longer. The floodgates burst, inundating Sora with Riku's worries and warnings.

Sora remained adamant that he was fine, and that he wasn't doing anything wrong. With Sora pushing aside and disregarding everything he said, Riku couldn't sustain the argument anymore. Instead, he pinned Sora against the wall. Sora struggled to break free, but Riku's sheer strength kept him held.

He whispered darkly in his ear, "All right. Do what you want. But just know that you're doing the wrong thing if you think that acting like this is going to help you."

He released Sora, and walked away, feeling worn and numb. He felt pangs of self-loathing; the fact that he couldn't dissuade his best friend from his deadly vices bruised his heart. He felt like there was nothing he could do short of kidnapping Sora and tying him to a chair.

Riku tried to block out these recollections of out his mind, as he ran down the street towards the club on the beachfront. Instead, he willed his legs carry him faster, so that he'd be in time to save his friend from whatever trouble he'd gotten himself into.


End file.
